


Big Spooky Fan, Me

by PurpleK1W1



Series: Good Omens Dialogue Prompts and Requests [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale has a sweet tooth, Banter, Established Relationship, Halloween, Light Fluff I guess, M/M, Old Married Couple, They're both sassy all the time, as always i wrote this instead of sleeping, aziraphale has No. Time, aziraphale in make up, lots of tiny details since its a one shot and im lazy, they still dont understand how wine works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24065983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleK1W1/pseuds/PurpleK1W1
Summary: It's Halloween, and Crowley is excited to spend the evening getting smashed and eating candy with Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Dialogue Prompts and Requests [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736233
Kudos: 20





	Big Spooky Fan, Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is the first of hopefully many requested one-shots from amino. Dialogue prompt is "What the hell is that and why are you wearing it?" Enjoy :)

Crowley  _ loved _ Halloween. It was the spookiest holiday of the year, and the humans didn't need any of his temptation to get into the very evil, very detrimental mischief that they usually did. 

However. 

Aziraphale, the corny bastard, also enjoyed Halloween. Took the fun, the spookiness out of it, if you asked Crowley. Aziraphale enjoyed getting into a costume and loved handing out candy to the children that rang the doorbell.  _ He thought it was cute _ , Crowley thought, blushing as he sprayed his plants. 

"Halloween isn't _ cute _ ," Crowley growled, mostly musing to himself, though startling the already trembling vegetation. Sighing, Crowley miracled away the plant mister, shrugged on a black denim jacket, and left his flat.

When Crowley arrived at Aziraphale's place, it was 5:30, right before the youngest trick or treaters and their chaperones started making rounds at six o'clock. He eyed the bottle of wine he held, hoping Aziraphale wouldn't mind a red for the night. He was also holding a large bag of sweets for Aziraphale to decide what to do with. Oftentimes he'd hand it out to trick or treaters or eat the bag himself over some time. After his great baking kick in April and May, Crowley wouldn't be surprised if he tried to make a pastry with taffy and lollies. 

Crowley didn't have to knock to enter, not really. He sauntered in, hips swaying, enjoying the familiar way his shoes thudded on the creaking floorboards. He made his way to the living room and set the wine and bag down on the already cluttered center table. 

There was a note there, neatly penned, 

"Crowley, 

I've gone to the back to get a bowl of sweets for the Trick-Or-Treaters! I can't wait for you to see my costume this year!  ☺

Affectionately, 

Aziraphale  ♡ " 

Crowley frowned deeply to fight the stupid smile attempting to split his face. Clearing his throat, he scoffed, "Trick-Or-Treaters… These days they hardly pull any good tricks" He fondly remembered sending Warlock off with a knapsack, a carton of eggs, and two rolls of toilet paper each Halloween. Endearing. Almost as cute as- 

"Boo." Aziraphale exclaimed right over Crowley's shoulder. 

Crowley jumped and let out a screech, whipping around to face the other. 

" _ Somebody's sssake! _ " He hissed, cutting eyes at the angel. 

Aziraphale, giddy as ever that it was Halloween - even more so now he had startled the demon - clapped, "Happy Halloween, dear!" bouncing on his feet. 

Crowley blushed, embarrassed. He hadn't heard Aziraphale sneak up on him.  _ Bastard, _ he thought, not with much malice. Then he noticed what he was  _ wearing _ . 

Leather jacket and black denim jeans, complemented by eyeliner and black nail polish, ensemble completed by a pair of red horns on his head, and an iconic clubbed tail clipped to his trousers. 

Crowley flushed even further when he realized what Aziraphale had dressed as. And Aziraphale, of course, looked as smug as ever. Ignoring the heat in his face, he asked, “What the  _ hell  _ is that, and why are you wearing it?” pointing to the horns on the angel’s head. 

“It’s my _ costume _ ,” he answered happily, not quite wiping the smirk from his face. 

Crowley began sputtering incredulously when there was a knock on the door. “That must be the children,” He cooed, getting up to answer the door. Instead of the young trick-or-treaters he was expecting, there was a person- a rather  _ grown _ person- on the doorstep; not even in costume. Shameless. 

“What brings you here?” Aziraphale asked with faux cheer, careful to hide his exasperation. 

“I was hoping to buy a book, if you could-”

“I’m afraid we’re quite closed at the moment,” Aziraphale returned dryly, shutting the door without hesitation. He turned to face Crowley, who sat in an armchair, amused and still cherry red. 

“You were pretty cross with the children,” Crowley chuckled, sticking a piece of chocolate into his mouth. Aziraphale shot him a look. “Hush,” he snapped. “I wasn’t expecting any  _ adults,  _ tonight… Goodness.” 

“Me neither,” Crowley admitted, “Don’t they all go to parties or egg houses or whatever?” 

“That’s certainly what  _ I  _ assumed,” Aziraphale said, unwrapping a taffy. He picked up the wine bottle that was on the center table, eyeing the label somewhat suspiciously. “Did you grab this on the  _ way? _ ” he chewed. 

“No, it was just something I had lying around… In the trunk of the car.” 

“Crowley, this wine is from 1961!” He squinted, “It’s  _ old _ …” 

Crowley shrugged, “Doesn’t change the quality. It’s as good as it was 90 years ago.” 

“60. 1961 was 60 years ago.” Aziraphale sighed, exasperated. 

“Same difference,” the demon sniffed. “I was close. Point is,” Crowley gesticulated with a hand, “it’s still good. Wine doesn’t go bad. Remember that case from 1937 we forgot about? I think it was even better than when we drank the first bottle or two.” 

“Well…” Aziraphale hesitated. “I suppose you’re right,” He conceded before uncorking the bottle and smelling it, making an unsure noise. “We won’t be having any until later,” he decided. “I can’t answer the door smashed,” he continued, ignoring the muffled groan from Crowley’s armchair. “Crowley, there will be  _ children.” _

Crowley groaned again, turning in his spot. “I can’t get even a  _ little  _ tipsy?” Aziraphale shot him an exasperated look. Crowley rolled his eyes. “What do you suppose we do, then?” 

“I… I was going to read a book… I supposed you’d do whatever you do on your mobile…” He twiddled his thumbs. 

“Oh, stop it. Stop it. The eyes don’t work when you’re in costume.” He complained, slapping a hand over his own eyes. “Why’d you dress as a demon anyway?”

  
Aziraphale sat on the couch, opening the book he was in the middle of. “I was never able to before,” He admitted, “It was… Most likely against the rules. I didn’t want to invoke a visit from anyone upstairs, you know how I hated them.” He paused for a moment, pretending he hadn’t cast his eyes upwards. “The visits, I mean. Not the…” He trailed off. ”You know what I mean.” 

Crowley peeked at the angel. He did look good if you ignored the offensive headband and tail. Sighing, Crowley crossed the room from the armchair to the couch, putting his head in Aziraphale’s lap and pulling out his phone. “We’re not getting up now,” Crowley said, looking up at the angel before turning his attention back to starting petty keyboard wars in the comment sections of things hardly controversial. 

Aziraphale huffed, tempted to pull a book out, and begin reading. “Really, Crowley, I have to hand out candy.” He admonished weakly. 

There was a moment of silence before Crowley gave in. “Gosh, fine.” He said, snapping his fingers. The bowl of candy disappeared from the table and they heard it fall to the doorstep with a clatter. 

A beat of reluctance passed before Aziraphale finally settled, opened his book (Harry Potter and the chamber of secrets without the cover on it, which he was reading for the seventh time), and rested his hand on Crowley’s head. 

Crowley was asleep in a few hours, and Aziraphale managed to ignore every single knock on the door. It took a miracle or two to keep the bowl full, but they stayed put, Crowley gently snoring, until the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked, please drop a kudos and even a comment! I see and appreciate each and every comment I receive, and I value the feedback. Thank you to my beta reader noirfos, and thank you for reading.  
> Link to dialogue prompts: https://veronicabunchwrites.tumblr.com/post/182665053565/100-dialogue-writing-prompts-make-this-into-a


End file.
